The Decrepit Journal of Sirius Black
by xLaceMeWithWindx
Summary: A journal told through the perspective of Sirius Black taking place during the third book. Rated for a bit of language. Complete.
1. Chapter One

_**The Decrepit Journal of Sirius Black;**_

_July 1993-June 1994_

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Although I'm sure that this has probably been done before, I've done it, too. I had to do a project for my novels class, and I chose to do this. . . It is a journal in the POV of Sirius Black throughout Harry's third year. There will be five entries per chapter (no matter how short or long they are.

July 29-August 3

**July 29**

The name's Sirius Black. I'm a convict; an escaped (very wrongly accused) convict. I don't know what year it is, and I only know the month and the date because I happened to notice it off of a newspaper (while I was nicking this muggle writing paper). By the way. . . nicking this paper was not easy, and I apologize sincerely if there are slobber stains all over it. . . I merely figured that it would be the easiest to nick this paper while in my animagus form (and only because muggles are too stupid to realize that there **_are_** witches and wizards and that some **_can_** turn themselves into animals). I was quite right about it being easier to nick. Anyway. . . I'm getting off topic.

My name's Sirius Black, but I really can't tell you how old I am, seeing as how I don't know the year or anything like that. I can tell you this much though, I was sent to prison on November 1, 1981 for a crime that I absolutely did not commit. On the thirty-first of October, the little rat Pettigrew turned Lily and James over to Voldemort. Upon finding that my best friend and his wife were dead by what might as well been Pettigrew's hand, I pledged that I would not rest until I found Pettigrew and killed him. Oh, and I found him. . . I was only just getting around to killing him when he performed a spell and caused a muggle street to explode. All that could be found of Pettigrew was a finger. . . a bloody finger. But I know he didn't die like those twelve muggles. Oh no, I know he's alive, and while I was drug to Azkaban for the deaths of those poor muggles, he was away somewhere laughing his head off. Bloody traitor.

It is now my goal in life (having escaped Azkaban after seeing Pettigrew in the paper the Minister of Magic handed me) to find Peter Pettigrew and kill him. Before that though, I intend to see my godson, Harry. I'm not sure how old he is now, but I'm sure that he's probably still living with that horrible sister of Lily's. Yes, at Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. For now, I retire, I have a long night of travel before me if I intend to at least see Harry by his birthday.

**July 31**

It's nineteen and ninety-three this year. I saw it on some paper in the city. I had been locked up in that hell hole of a prison with Bellatrix and the dementors for twelve years. Twelve years is way too long for a man who is completely innocent.

On a, perhaps, brighter note, I had a birthday yesterday. According to the birth date of July 30, 1960, I am currently thirty-three years of age. I'm old. I was young (and only just allowed to drink legally in the muggle world) when I was arrested. The thought of my age back then brings me to the thought that we had no idea as to what we were doing. All we knew in 1970 was that some dark wizard had risen, and by 1978, we were only just graduating from Hogwarts. We didn't think that we'd all be as good as dead in 1981.

Anyway. . . I made it to Privet Drive early this morning and laid in the bushes beneath the Dursley's kitchen window in hopes of hearing something useful come from the inside of the house. The only thing remotely interesting that I heard was a clip from a muggle news show.

". . . The public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately."

That lump of lard Dursley then said, "No need to tell us he's no good. Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout! Look at his hair!"

I had, at that moment, sincerely wished for all the money in my Gringott's bank account to be emptied into Arthur Weasley's pockets if I could have seen the look that would have appeared on Vernon Dursley's face had he known that I was lying beneath his kitchen window. . . Anyway, almost directly after, I heard Harry talk for the first time. The poor boy's going through the eve of puberty.

I'm getting off topic again. . . I heard Harry talk about Vernon's dreadful sister Marge. I suppose she's coming to stay with them. (I don't know, I didn't stick around long enough to find out.) Boy, I hate her. I only met her once, and I can't, for the life of me, figure out why exactly the bloody hag was at James and Lily's wedding.

Oh bother. . . someone's coming towards this shed. I'll have to go. . . I think I'll go see Harry again.

**August 1**

That Marge woman is horrible, and her dog's an absolute bloody beast. It tried to pee on me, and let me tell you, I'm not okay with something trying to pee on me. I probably shouldn't have snapped at it though. . .

I found a bit of and old Daily Prophet flapping around down on Magnolia Crescent yesterday evening. It was a clipping of the same article I noticed in the paper Minister Fudge was carrying around in Azkaban. I asked him politely for the paper indicating that I liked to do puzzles or something of the sort, but the truth was that I recognized someone from those pictures. I didn't recognize one of the Weasley's per say, but I recognized the **_rat_** that was on the youngest Weasley boy's shoulder. Why do I care about a rat on a boy's shoulder? Why? Because it had the same animagus markings as Pettigrew, and it was missing a finger. How could I not recognize that? Anyway, this time around, I kept the newspaper article as to allow myself to memorize the boy's features, fore if I ever see him, I shall kill the rat that sits on his shoulder.

Harry did well today. Marge is hateful. The dog should die.

**August 2**

Oh, how I hate that awful Marge woman. I hate her devotedly so. She is horrible, and her dog really **_should_** die. She is spiteful and bloody awful. I can hardly see how her family has dealt with her for such a long period of time. If I were Vernon Dursley (which thank Merlin I'm not), I'd have dropped her off of a bridge when we were kids. She's a hopeless case. . . I don't think any amount of schooling helped with the woman's underlying ignorance. On top of everything else, she's arrogant. I hate arrogant people almost as much as I hate ignorant people, but the moment you put them together, that's the moment I want to commit suicide. Good for Harry though. Good for what he did to her. He made her wine glass explode in her hand, and rightly so. I would have hit her had I have been in Harry's shoes.

"You mustn't blame yourself for the way the boy's turned out, Vernon. If there's something rotten on the _inside_, there's nothing anyone can do about it. It's one of the basic rules of breeding. You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup" That was when her wine glass exploded. . . Right good game, Harry. Right good game.

**August 3**

Nothing too interesting happened today. I did manage to get myself 'shooed' from an elderly lady's garden. It's quite okay though, she only had cabbage and smelled strongly of moth balls and cats. I hate cats for the most part. I've never liked them. Lily got one after we left school, and it drove James mad. It was a bowlegged, ginger colored little thing. I can't quite remember the name of it, but I do remember that it was quite ugly and really liked me. It always sat in my lap. I think it was called. . . Cashranks or something silly like that. . .

Seeing as how there's nothing all that interesting to talk about, I'm going to go try to scrounge up some food for the evening.


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.**

**August 4-August16**

**August 4**

Marge is getting worse. She's constantly finding ways to pick at Harry. I'm not good at reading people emotions (especially in dog form), but even I can tell that he's about to either break down or blow up. Either way it won't be pretty if he has his mother's temperament. God, how I miss that woman. Lily was one of the most wonderful people I have ever known. She was born to a muggle family (including that awful Petunia) and still managed to get into one the most prestigious wizarding schools in the United Kingdom. She was brilliant, and she hated me for six years. She hated me very rightly though. . . I was quite arrogant in those days. Yes, I hate arrogant people, and I was arrogant. . . to tell you the truth, I still am arrogant, but not quite as much so.

Enough with the digression, Lily Evans was amazing. She had a wonderful personality, mind and (as long as James never knew I thought this) body. She was great all around. She hated me up until the time she had to help me with a Charms project in the seventh year. During that certain week, we shared one thing largely in common. We both hated James Potter. She hated him because that's just what she always did, and I hated him because, well, he turned my hair pink. After that, we became fast friends, and I was always happy to say that I fixed Lily and James up. Of course neither of them would ever admit to the fact that I set them up, but Remus and I knew what happened and how it happened, so it was okay. Merlin, I miss them all dearly.

**August 5**

Today was the most dull day of my life. Yes, the most dull day of my **_whole_** life. It was about twenty times more boring than one of McGonagall's lectures. The only thing remotely amusing that happened today was the fact that I peed on the car tires (yes, all of them) of Vernon's new company car. How grand is that?

**August 6**

Marge went over the line tonight. Over the very line created by those who do not wish to be inflated to the point of no return. I'm too enraged to even describe what I'm feeling right now, so I'm just going to skip to the part where I tell you exactly what was said.

It started with Vernon offering Marge a bit of brandy, and it went from there.

"Can I tempt you, Marge?" He had asked.

"Just a small one, then," she chuckled. "A bit more than that. . . and a bit more. . . that's the ticket."

She then went on to say, "Aah. Excellent nosh, Petunia. It's normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after. . . " She then burped and continued, "Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthy-sized boy. You'll be a proper sized man, Dudders, like your father. Yes, I'll have a spot more brandy, Vernon. . . . Now, this one here" she said, referring to Harry.

"This one's got a mean, runty look about him. You get that with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. Ratty little thing it was. Weak. Underbred. It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I'm saying nothing against your family, Petunia, but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best of families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and here's the result right in front of us."

Harry still hadn't said anything, so Marge went on, "This Potter, you never told me what he did?"

"He didn't work," Vernon then said quickly. "Unemployed."

"As I expected!" Marge exclaimed loudly. "A no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who "

"He was not," Harry then whispered very quietly. I barely heard him.

"MORE BRANDY!" Vernon yelled. He then said to Harry, "You, boy, go to bed, go on "

"No, Vernon," Marge then insisted, "go on, boy, go on. Proud of your parents, are you? They go and get themselves killed in a car crash (drunk, I expect) "

"They didn't die in a car crash!" Harry replied to her heatedly.

She retorted angrily, "They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, and left you to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives! You are an insolent, ungrateful little "

Harry had unknowingly placed a wand less engorgio charm on Marge. Directly afterward, he ran from the house with his trunk and owl cage. He collapsed near Magnolia Crescent, and I tried to sneak closer to get a good look at him. He saw me. I was planning on going over to him when the Knight Bus appeared. When it was gone, he was with them. That left me to think, "If I were a stranded, underage wizard on the Knight Bus, where would I go?" It seemed like a simple enough answer to me. Diagon Alley. Now, I've just got to make my way to London. Yes, it will be a few days at least before I even write again. On a closing note, good show, Harry, blimey good show. The bloody woman had deserved every cubic foot of swelling she received . . . (Although. . . I still believe that the dog should have died.)

Oh, yes, there was an article about me in The Daily Prophet this evening.

**Black Still At Large**

Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner

ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding

capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.

"We are doing all we can to recapture Black,"

said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this

morning, "and we beg the magical community to

remain calm."

Fudge has been criticized by some members of

the International Federation of Warlocks for in-

forming the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.

"Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an

irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to

anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have

the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not

breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone.

And let's face it who'd believe him if he did?"

While Muggles have been told that Black is car-

rying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use

to kill each other), the magical community lives in

fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when

Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.

It amazes me how. . . much more stupid these people get with age. . . I mean, seriously, Cornelius Fudge? He reeks of idiocy.

**August 10**

I've found myself back in London for the first time in years. It's busier than it used to be, and it hurts my ears to be here. The smells are disgusting. I don't remember the stench of cars being so horrible back in the seventies. Merlin, the muggles are ruining this planet, those ungrateful codgers. Anyway, I've found that Harry's staying in The Leaky Cauldron, so I tend to stay around there quite a bit. It's nice these days, I've gotten food for every meal I've begged for today. I think I may just enjoy living in Diagon Alley.

**August 16**

A new broom came out today. It's entitled the Firebolt. Harry seems to lust after it. I've seen him down there staring at it (in between doing his homework and eating ice cream). I've heard through talk at The Leaky Cauldron that Harry's quite the quidditch player (just like his father, James). He does hold a rather striking appearance to James, why shouldn't he hold some of the same talents?

Oh, how I'm sure that he's heard that he looks like his father, but he does ever so much. There are only three noticeable differences between Harry and James. Harry has green eyes, opposed to his father's hazel eyes. Harry has more of a point in his nose, much rather like his mother's. Lastly, Harry has a scar on his forehead, which if I've heard correctly is from the encounter with Voldemort from when he was only an infant. I wish I could see how Harry acts around his friends. . . I'd rather like to know whether or not he acts like his prankster father or has the calm and collected demeanor of his mother (that is until you made her very very angry). Oh well, I guess I shall find out one day. . . Perhaps not, but I shall hope to find out.


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

**August 19-September 19**

**August 19**

I peed on Lucius Malfoy's shoe today. It was quite wonderful.

**August 31**

Sometime in the past three weeks, Harry bought his school supplies. I followed him. But of course I did, I've been following the boy for about a month now. . . I'm definitely surprised that he's not noticed that. . . I hope to Merlin that he's not daft. . . that would be a horrible insult to James and Lily's intelligence. . . Of course, I think that I might be a bit daft if I grew up with Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley. Harry met with what seems to be his two best friends today in the Alley. One was the boy from the paper, and the other was a girl with big front teeth and large hair.

I can hardly exclaim my excitement and detest for the fact that my godson is best friends with the boy who holds Peter Pettigrew in his hands every day. I'd be excited for the fact that it'd make it easier for me to get to Pettigrew and kill him, but I can't believe that Harry can't tell when someone has something that is potentially dangerous to him. . . Moody would never pass him through Auror-Training ("CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"). At any measure though, I will get that rat, I just hope that I don't have to hurt the red headed boy in the process. On another note, the girl with big, bushy hair bought a cat today. For a fleeting moment, it reminded me exactly of the day that Lily came home with her own squashed face, ginger colored, bow legged cat.

The start of school is tomorrow, or at least the train leaves from King's Cross Station. I suppose that I should probably get started on my journey because this one is going to be like going to hell and coming back all in one. I do suppose that I'll get started in the morning. For now, I believe that I'm going to try to find a bed for the night and perhaps some supper.

**September 6**

I finally arrived to the Hogwarts area today. The trip was real hell. I've had very little to eat, and I'm still running on next to nothing. I'm a very hungry mutt. . . A very hungry mutt that's living in Hogsmeade in the Shrieking Shack. Oh, the memories I have of this place. . . We Marauders, including the rat, came here every full moon for poor old Moony. Yes, becoming an illegal animagus really had, and still has, its perks. Oh well. . . That's not my point.

I've been living in the shack for about three hours now, and, well, compared to the rocks I was sleeping on before hand, the tattered old bed in here is amazing. I've also found a couple of dozen of old candles (and some matches). I'm still not really sure as to why the matches are here, but I'm not complaining one bit. It's not bloody easy to light a candle when you've no wand to do the igniting with. My latest candle is burning down quickly, so I'm going to try to relay my past week as quickly as possible.

After my last time writing, I managed to scrounge up a measly supper, and I ate like I hadn't eaten, well days. I took a quick sleep in an alley between Eyelops and Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. I rose sometime in the early morning hours and started the short walk to King's Cross Station. After getting there, I feel asleep under some benches while waiting for the Hogwarts crowd. I woke up when a little brat dropped their ice cream on my nose (it was Neapolitan though, good stuff), and I found a clock to see that it was fifteen minutes until eleven. I quickly raced my way towards Platform 9 ¾. I managed to sneak in between a few older students and hung back in the shadows. My heart leaped in my chest when I saw Harry talking to a ginger haired man that I was assuming was Arthur Weasley. I went a bit closer to them to hear a bit of what they were frantically whispering about.

"There's something I've got to tell you before you leave" said the man in a tense voice.

"It's all right, Mr. Weasley," said Harry. "I already know."

"You know? How could you know?"

"I er I heard you and Mrs. Weasley talking last night. I couldn't help hearing. Sorry "

"That's not the way I'd have chosen for you to find out," said the man, looking anxious.

"No," interjected Harry. "Honestly, it's okay. This way, you haven't broken your word to Fudge and I know what's going on."

"Harry, you must be very scared "

"I'm not," he replied sincerely. "_Really,_" he added, because Arthur was looking disbelieving. "I'm not trying to be a hero, but seriously, Sirius Black can't be worse than Voldemort, can he?"

The bile rose in my stomach at those words. Harry, my own 'effing godson thought I was out to kill him? What in the name of hell **and** Merlin do they teach these kids at that bloody school of theirs? Since when am I going to kill someone? I've never killed a single damn person in my whole life (even when I was an auror!). Why in the bloody hell would I be after my own godson? I was so sick at those words, and I was still fighting the vomit from emitting from my throat when the whistle on the train blew. I watched as the scarlet steam engine started to pull from the station. The last thing that I happened to notice while watching the train pull out from the station was a pair of golden colored eyes staring out at me from the last compartment of the train. . . I knew those eyes from somewhere.

As the parents, siblings, and grandparents cleared their way from the platform (by apparition or the barrier), I trotted quite leisurely toward the train tracks. I hopped down from the platform and onto the train tracks. My only hope of getting to Hogwarts would be to follow the train tracks to Hogsmeade. I followed, followed a bit more, followed some more, and oh, did I mention, I followed. The train tracks seemed to go on forever. After several days without food and with way too much rain, I finally saw the looming silhouette of Hogwarts in the distance. After what could only have been forty-five minutes more, I had arrived to the school. After a few stealthy movements, I had managed to escape into the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow and made my way to the Shrieking Shack.

I'm planning on going out into the town tonight and seeing what information I can scrounge up from the gossip going around town. Maybe, just maybe I could get some books. . .

**September 10**

I got some books today. I went into a town with a piece of parchment that read, _'Hello, my name is __Barnabas. I've been sent by my master to retrieve some books for him. He's very sick and cannot get out of bed. He has sent me for some modern history books, so he can read while he is indisposed. He says to send at least seven with the most credibility. I have the money in the pouch about my neck. Thank you.' _ It worked, too. People are really dumb.

While in town today, I picked up some conversation by a couple of students who snuck out of the castle (a couple of those Weasley boys.) It turns out that Harry's started out with a pretty good year, minus a couple of predictions by that old bat that teaches Divination. I never liked her, so it doesn't matter to me. He's supposedly practicing really hard for quidditch. Good man, Harry. Good man. He's going to succeed in life. I know that.

Color me pink, Remus is working at Hogwarts! He's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The school's been going through them pretty quickly since Harry's arrived. I've heard something about the first one dying and the second one being a crook or something. Remus is neither, he's just a werewolf. . . I hardly believe that anyone up at the school knows that other than Dumbledore and the staff members. Sometimes I sneak onto the grounds, and every time I do, I see that cat that Harry's friend bought. It reminds of Lily so much. . .

**September 19**

I've learned a lot since the tenth. I've read every book I got, and I'm very surprised to say the very least. Oh, and today's Hermione's birthday. (Hermione is that friend of Harry's that has the cat and the big bushy hair.) On the subject of Hermione, her cat, Crookshanks, is Lily's old cat. How do I know that? Very interesting conversations with the cat, that's how I know that.

Yes, I admit it, Sirius Black, the man that used to loathe cats now has conversations with one and considers it my best friend. But seriously, the cat has been so bleeding helpful. He's told me everything I need to know about anything. . . He's also told me that the relationship between Harry, Ron (the red headed Weasley boy) is becoming strained because of him. He says that Ron thinks he's trying to eat Scabbers (a. k. a. that nasty rat Pettigrew), and he gets really bothered at Hermione over it.

I also learned through Crookshanks that Lucius Malfoy bore a child named Draco and that Draco goes to school here with Harry. He and Harry hate one another also, and rightly so, those Malfoys are nothing other than insufferable gits. Harry passes out whenever dementors come near him. I'm not sure why, but I'm guessing that something really bloody terrible happened to him that causes him a lot of pain. . . I'm guessing it was Voldemort. I don't know why it's so hard to say that Voldemort outright attacked Harry and his family, but it's hard all right. . . I don't know how I'm going to do any of this. I do believe that this is going to be the end of me.


	4. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**September 26- November 6**

**September 26**

It's been a week since I've written. There's not really been a whole hell of a lot going on, but it is Hogwarts and there are students all over the place these days. I get really confused with the kids running around all of the time, and it's really really distracting. I've continued to learn things from Crookshanks.

On the second of September, Draco Malfoy got attacked in Care of Magical Creatures class. He supposedly verbally insulted a hippogriff. I found that rather entertaining myself. Hippogriffs are very proud creatures, and they take high offense to being insulted. I'm pretty fond of hippogriffs myself. I did amazingly well in Kettleburn's class with them. They're a kick to ride.

Crookshanks has a habit of chasing Peter around the common room informing him that he is to die soon. I'm very proud of Crookshanks, and I hope that Hermione is, too. He's a very good cat, and he's a very good friend. He's good to have around. Harry's doing well in most of his classes. I'm really proud of him, but aren't I always?

I'm surprised that Moony hasn't noticed me around yet. I'm sure he will. He's a smart man and with the full moon coming up, I'm sure he'll be in here for his transformation, he'll never miss my scent. I almost hope for him to find me, but I'm sure he'll try to kill me. . . He thought, along with the rest of the world, that I was the Potters' secret keeper (for the Fidelius Charm) because I was known to be by him and the others. . . But I had convinced them to switch to Pettigrew. Why did I do that? Why? I'm so stupid. They could be alive if I had agreed to be their keeper. I could have been their keeper, and they could be alive, but no, I'm selfish, and I didn't think I could make it as their keeper. What in the bloody hell was wrong with me? God, I don't know.

**October 8**

I sat in on Harry's quidditch meeting tonight. It was interesting to say the very least. His captain, Oliver Wood, as I've been told by Crookshanks, is very willing to do anything to win the quidditch cup for the Gryffindor's this year around. I like him a lot. He's full of determination, and he's a really good pep talker for the team.

After entering the locker rooms on the side of the quidditch field, he stood before the team and, with a sort of desperation in his voice, said, "This our last chance _my_ last chance to win the Quidditch Cup." By this time, he was pacing before them like a lion before it's prey, "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it.

"Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world injuries then the tournament getting called off last year. . . ." Wood swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to his throat. "But we also know we've got the _best ruddy team in the school_," he said, punching his fist into his hand.

"We've got three _superb _Chasers," he said pointing to the three girls, if I recall correctly, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell.

"We've got two _unbeatable_ Beaters."

"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," said the Weasley twins together, pretending to blush.

"And we've got a seeker who has _never failed to win us a match_!" Wood said, glaring at Harry with a kind of furious pride. "And me," he added as an afterthought.

"We think you're very good too, Oliver," said one of the twins.

"Spanking good Keeper," said the other.

"The point is," Wood went on, resuming his pacing, "the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing. . . ."

"Oliver, this year's our year," one of the twins said after seeing Wood's dejected face.

"We'll do it, Oliver!" said one of the three Chasers.

"Definitely," said Harry.

Those kids now have quidditch practice three times a week. I remember when James was the captain of our quidditch team. . . We had practice three nights a week and all day Saturday training EVERY BLEEDING SUNDAY! Wow, I miss those days. . . Anyway, enough of the digression.

Wood's good for Harry. He compliments him and from what I can tell is a good role model to Harry. The boy's got determination, self-pride, and a sense of style in himself. He's a good influence for Harry. I like him.

**October 31**

I made a mistake tonight. I snuck into the castle to try to get into the Gryffindor common room and kill Pettigrew. I mean hell, all of the kids were at the Halloween feast. They would never know I was there. Crookshanks gave me the wrong password. I don't really blame him though because cats have horrible hearing unlike we dogs.

Anyway. . . This is how it happened.

I got into the castle in my animagus form, and I stealthily snuck up towards Gryffindor Tower. Once I was in the hallway facing the portrait hole, I checked to see if anyone was around, and I transformed back into my normal form. I then proceeded to sneak down the hallway whispering, "Forktune Major, that's the password that Crookshanks gave to me."

When I appeared to the Fat Lady, she gasped but still sputtered, "P. .. Password?"

"Hullo, darling," I said, using the most debonair voice I could.

"Password," she demanded more firmly.

"Have you missed me? I sure do miss those late night talks we used to have back when I was in school, Beatrice," I said saucily.

She smiled despite of herself and softened up immensely. "I'll let you in if you can give me the password, darling."

I smiled smugly. "Forktune Major."

I was thoroughly shocked when she didn't swing open. I cocked an eyebrow at her and said, "Darling, you said you'd let me in if I gave you the password, well, I've given you the password, why aren't you letting me in?"

"That is not the password," she said, her tone starting to grow cold again.

I growled in agitation and said, "Just let me the hell in!"

"No!"

In a fit of rage, I pulled a knife from my pocket and started ripping away at the canvas trying to get in. I wanted to kill Pettigrew and nothing could stand in between me and my fate. . . Well, except for the wrong password, a screaming Fat Lady, and Peeves.

Beatrice's screaming had brought Peeves about. "She won't let you in if you treat her like that." He mocked while hanging upside down.

"Leave me alone, Peeves," I snapped while tearing at the canvas.

He blew a raspberry and said, "Wee little convict frustrated?"

A feral growl escaped my lips, and I turned to Peeves. I pointed the knife at him and plunged it with every syllable, "Peeves, you are doing absolutely nothing to help with my mood. If you weren't dead, I'd kill you, and if I had a wand, I'd banish you!"

He flipped back over and started singing, "Wee Sirius Black . . . He left Hogwarts but now he's back. . . He's an escaped convict. . . He can't even do a wandless trick!"

I growled and stuck the knife back into my pocket (one having retracted the blade) and ran off down the hallway. When I was quite sure that he couldn't see me anymore, I transformed back into my animagus form and headed out of the castle. There was no doubt that the rat would get the headmaster up there soon, and there's nothing more than that that could ruin my plans at the moment.

I'm truly disappointed in myself. I don't know why I went off of the deep end like that and attacked Beatrice. . . I'm not even sure why I came into the castle, all I know now is that when Moony gets here, he'll kill me. He'll kill me for sure. He knows I'm near.

**November 5**

Moony didn't come tonight. I don't know why. I don't like the idea of him not coming here for his transformation. . . He could kill someone! He could bite someone! Surely Headmaster Dumbledore isn't allowing him to stay in the castle with the mentality of, 'Kill, blood, mmmmm meat.' I would be sorely disappointed in Albus Dumbledore's intelligence if he is allowing it.

**November 6**

There was a Gryffindor quidditch match today. I went to watch it. They were supposed to play Slytherin, but their Seeker, Malfoy (who else?), was complaining of the arm injury the hippogriff gave to him, and so Gryffindor played Hufflepuff. It was raining like hell, and I managed to find a seat in the topmost, empty row of seats. I was sitting there nicely watching the game, Gryffindor was up by fifty by that time, when Harry went as if he had seen the Snitch. While he was racing the Hufflepuff Seeker for it, some dementors came onto the field. I don't know what happened, but Harry passed out and fell outright from his broom. I'd be surprised as hell if he hadn't broken something. Anyway, Dumbledore rushed onto the field and that's when I made a run for it. . . The last thing I saw before escaping into the hole beneath the Whomping Willow was the tree tearing Harry's Nimbus 2000 to bits. He's going to be devastated, according to Crookshanks, he loved that broom like there was no tomorrow.


	5. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

**November 25- December 19**

**November 25**

I ordered a Firebolt for Harry today. I wrote a not with the ordering information saying that I was Harry and that the money was to be taken from Sirius Black's account. Crookshanks got it mailed for me. He's such a trusty little friend. I'm sure that Harry will love his Firebolt. He deserves something from me, seeing as the only things I've ever given to him were things when he was a baby. . . I'm glad I've had this opportunity.

**November 27**

Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in their match today. I hope that Gryffindor manages a shot at the cup. . . I would feel horrible for that Wood boy after the way he talked about wanted the cup. He reminded me of James when we were in school, but of course, when we were in school, we won the quidditch cup every year. There was never a team any better than Gryffindor, although Ravenclaw came close to beating us that one year when Bones was still on the team. They would have won, too, had it not been for my amazing Keeper skills, and of course, James' amazing Seeker skills. We were quite the pair back in those days. . .

**December 6**

McGonagall took the list around for the students that were intending to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas break. Harry, Hermione, and Ron have all signed up to stay. I'm relieved. I was hoping that Harry wasn't even considering going back to Petunia and Vernon.

According to Crookshanks, Ron has been rather ticked off at Hermione lately because he's (Crookshanks) has been chasing Pettigrew more often hissing threats at him. He's offered more than once to just eat Pettigrew for me, but I've told him that Pettigrew being the bloomin' idiot that he is would try to transform within him, and he would more than likely. To put it simply, Crookshanks doesn't wish to eat any longer. Harry's devastated over his broom. Hagrid's devastated over the trial he has to go to for Buckbeak (the hippogriff that took a bite of Malfoy). The dementors should all be vanished to hell.

**December 18**

There was another Hogsmeade trip today. I was walking around trying to get snippets of conversation when I saw Harry, Hermione and Ron go into the Three Broomsticks. Naturally, I followed them. While in there, I overheard Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Cornelius Fudge and Madam Rosmerta talking about how **I** had betrayed Lily and James. I was so terribly angry that I forgot about Harry and only listened to the adults.

"A small gillywater "

"Mine," said Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Four pints of mulled mead "

"Ta, Rosmerta," said Hagrid.

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and an umbrella "

"Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.

"So, you'll be the red currant rum, Minister?"

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge's voice. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us. . . ."

"Well, thank you very much, Minister." said Rosmerta before walking off to make herself a drink.

When she returned, she asked, "So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?"

Fudge turned toward Rosmerta and replied, "What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"

"I did hear a rumor," admitted Rosmerta.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly.

"You know that the dementors have searched the whole village twice?" said Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away. . . . It's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, m'dear, I don't like them any more than you do, " said Fudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution . . . unfortunate, but there you are. . . . I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"I should think not," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

"All the same" demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse. . . . We all know what Black's capable of. . . ."

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought . . . I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead.

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" said Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," said Fudge.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse."

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"

"Naturally," said Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course exceptionally bright, in fact but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers "

"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money."

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Rosmerta.

"Worse even than that, m'dear. . . ." Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not may people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."

"How does that work?" said Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.

"An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"

"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" whispered Rosmerta.

"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself. . . . and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Black?" gasped Rosmerta.

"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," said Professor McGonagall darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"

"He did," said Fudge heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed "

"Black betrayed them?" breathed Rosmerta.

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had sworn his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it "

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

"Shh!" said Professor McGonagall.

"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James' house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead . . . an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' moterbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared.

"Hagrid, please!" said Professor McGonagall. "Keep your voice down!"

"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him ' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt and uncle's. Black argued, but in the end, he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. 'I won't need it anymore,' he says.

"I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a after matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him.

"_But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh_? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to 'em anymore. . . ."

A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"

"Alas, if only we had," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."

"Pettigrew . . . that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" said Rosmerta.

"Hero-worshiped Black and Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I how I regret that now. . . " She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

"There, now, Minerva," said Fudge kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens. . . ."

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, Stupid boy . . . foolish boy . . . he was always hopeless at dueling . . . should have left it to the Ministry. . . ."

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands I'd've ripped him limb from limb," Hagrid growled.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudge sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep is had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him . . . a heap of bloodstained robes and a few a few fragments "

Fudge's voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown.

"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," said Fudge thickly. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was to comfort his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."

Rosmerta let out a long sigh. "Is it true he's mad minister?"

"I wish I could say he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man cruel . . . pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them. . . but I was shocked at how _normal_ Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."

"But what do you think he's broken out to do?" said Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"

"I daresay that is his er eventual plan," said Fudge evasively. "But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing . . . but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again. . . ."

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," said Professor McGonagall.

I left the first chance I got after that. I was so physically ill to my stomach. I had yet to hear how horrible of a traitor I was to Lily and James, and I was sick to hear that they thought I was horrible enough for those dastardly crimes. I can't cope with the fact that Harry thinks I did all that. I don't think I'll make it to kill Pettigrew after this. . .

**December 19**

Buckbeak's trail is set for April 20.


	6. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**December 20-January 24**

**December 20**

Harry, Ron and Hermione started looking for things in the defense of Buckbeak today. They hope to save him.For the love of all things magical, I hope they do. He's such a good hippogriff. I've been down to see him a couple of times since Friday. I'm horribly depressed, and he's a really good listener. He hasn't the slightest idea that he might die. . . Poor, defenseless hippogriff.

**December 25**

Harry got the Firebolt today. He was terribly excited about it. But his friend Hermione had Professor McGonagall come and take it to test it for jinxes. Harry and Ron are horribly mad at her, but I understand, they don't know who it's from and it could have jinxes on it. Moody would like Hermione a great deal. She'd have his "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!".

**January 6**

The school term's started back. All of the students have returned. I barely go onto the grounds anymore. Remus is supposedly giving Harry anti-dementor lessons. Good for Harry. Those could be really beneficial to him.

**January 15**

Slytherin narrowly defeated Ravenclaw. I still think the team has a chance.

**January 24**

Wood has started the team on five practices a week. Good man, Wood. I want Gryffindor to win. Seven years is far too long to go without the cup. Harry is still in his anti-dementor lessons with Remus. He takes them every Thursday night.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**February 3-March 15**

**February 3**

I'm still a bit depressed over what I heard in the Three Broomsticks, but I've decided that I'm not going to let it run my life, and I've decided that I'm still going to go with my plan of murdering Pettigrew. Crookshanks brought me a list of the Gryffindor common room passwords for the week. He took them from some boy who forgets everything and wrote them down. They have a new portrait keeper until Beatrice is fixed up. I'm planning on going down in a couple of days to get the bastard.

Crookshanks was blamed from something by the boys tonight, and they hate Hermione even more, but I'm not sure what was going on. . .

On a brighter note, Harry got the Firebolt back today. He was really happy about it. . . I'm glad he likes it so much.

**February 5**

Gryffindor had their match against Ravenclaw today. Of course I went to go see it. They won even though that git Malfoy and two of his cronies had to try to sabotage Harry with dressing up like dementors. He showed them though. He produced an enormous partonus that scared the piss out of them.

I tried once again to kill Pettigrew once again tonight. The portrait that replaced Beatrice, Sir Cadogan (the crazy twit), let me in as pretty as I please after I read him the passwords for the week. I sneakily went up the stairs into the boy's dorm hallway and found the third year dorm room. I followed to the correct bed as Crookshanks has told me to, and I had just slashed the curtains and started my search for Pettigrew when that Weasley boy woke up and started screaming. I bolted as fast as possible.

Although my last two attempts were futile, I pledge not to fail next time. I will get him if it kills me.

**February 12**

Harry snuck into Hogsmeade again today. He explored the whole village and was outside of the Shrieking Shack when Malfoy came round to taunt Weasley about his family's financial state. He very nearly got caught by Snape if I heard correctly. Crookshanks said something of Remus helping them out of a tight spot. I'm glad he still tries to help everyone he can.

Buckbeak's hearing was yesterday. He lost. He's going to be executed later in the year. It's a real shame. Buckbeak was a damn good hippogriff. He was really beautiful, too.

Harry and Ron made up with Hermione and apologized.

**March 1**

Today was the Weasley boy's birthday. Harry got him some chess pieces.

**March 15**

Beware of the ides of March, indeed. Those muggles had it right with that muggle play about that salad dressing guy. The ides of March are a terribly boring time. With everything going so astray for Harry lately, he's been on good behavior, and I've had nothing to be worried about. Everything's calm around the castle.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**April 1-June 3**

**April 1**

Hermione slapped Draco Malfoy during Care of Magical Creatures, skipped a Charms class, and walked out of Divination all in one day. I do fear that if she had been around when I had been in school that she would have been a very dear friend of the Marauders. We like a girl with spunk, and Hermione is chalked full of the stuff. She did all of this right before Easter, too. That girl knows how to go out with a bang before a break. She's a good friend for Harry. She'll keep him on his toes.

**April 12**

Gryffindor vs. Slytherin for the cup. Gryffindor has to win by two hundred to win the cup. Wood is constantly up Harry's arse about only catching the Snitch if the team is up by fifty points. Harry supposedly yelled at Wood today over it.

**April 16**

I went out into the forest today to talk with Crookshanks. He's such good company. He keeps me updated on Harry quite a bit. I'm glad to have him around. He's always really indignant about the way I would push him off of me when I was around Lily and James' place back in the day. It's okay though because we get along perfectly now, and he likes having someone to talk with. Especially about that Hermione girl. He's particularly fond of her.

The Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match was today. Gryffindor won, winning the Quidditch Cup for the Gryffindor's for the first time in seven years. Wood cried like a girl that got knocked up backstage at a Stones' concert, except, he was happy. . .

**May 20**

It's been over a month since I've written, but there's been even less going on this time than the last time. This has **definitely ** been way more boring than one of McGonagall's classes. I've almost eaten my paw of in boredom. I think I would have had Crookshanks not been spending so much time with me. Hermione's been spending time preparing for her exams, and she's been ignoring him. He's spent the night with me a few times. . .

**June 3**

Harry had his first two exams today. Transfiguration (turning a teapot into a tortoise) and Charms (Cheering Charms). He supposedly did pretty well. I'm really proud of him. James was wonderful in Transfiguration. Lily was terrific at Charms. I wonder which he's better in. Either way, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that the boy passed his exams. I would be thoroughly disappointed if he didn't.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Author's Note: This is the last installment.**

**June 4-June 8**

**June 4**

Harry had three exams to take today. He had Care of Magical Creatures early in the morning. Then in the afternoon he had potions, and at midnight he had Astronomy. I don't know how he did on these. He didn't say a lot to Ron and Hermione, thus meaning that Crookshanks didn't hear anything.

**June 5**

Harry had two exams today. He had History of Magic in the morning and Herbology in the afternoon. Still no news as to how he did. I hope he's doing well.

**June 8**

So much has happened in the past couple of days that I don't even know where to begin. The sixth was the day that Buckbeak was supposed to be executed. Harry, Ron and Hermione snuck down to Hagrid's cabin to comfort them. They found Pettigrew there.

The Minister, the executioner, and Dumbledore all came down to the hut, and the three went to leave and head up to the castle, but Pettigrew escaped from Ron and went running. Ron caught him, and I grabbed ahold of him and pulled him into the Whomping Willow (I accidentally broke his leg while doing so). I did it so I could get Pettigrew.

Harry and Hermione came after him, and it went downhill and uphill in intervals from there.

When they came into the shack and entered the bedroom, Hermione automatically asked, "Ron are you okay?"

"Where's the dog?" Harry asked.

"Not a dog," Ron moaned. His teeth were gritted with pain. "Harry, it's a trap"

"What "

"_He's the dog. . . he's an Animagus_. . . ."

I then came out of the shadows and disarmed them. I then said hoarsely, "I thought you'd come and help your friend. Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful . . . it will make everything much easier."

Harry had started to come at me, but Hermione grabbed him and exclaimed, "No, Harry!"

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" Ron said while standing.

I rolled my eyes at the boy and said, "Lie down. You will damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me? You'll have to kill all three of us!" Ron exclaimed.

"There will only be one murder here tonight," I said while grinning. . . I admit it, I was in a very maniac like trance by that time.

"Why's that?" Harry spat. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew. . . . What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Harry!" Hermione whispered. "Be quiet!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" He then lunged at me.

Hermione screamed and Ron started yelling as Harry hit me in every place he could. I didn't want to hurt him, but I had been waiting to get at Pettigrew, and I would risk hurting Harry temporarily to get to the bastard.

Harry eventually got the upper hand on me and had me pinned to the ground with his wand basically at my throat after a bit of a scramble with Crookshanks. I then whispered, "Going to kill me, Harry?"

He answered, his voice shaking slightly, "You killed my parents."

"I don't deny it," I replied very quietly. "But if you knew the whole story."

"The whole story? You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know." Harry was furious with me.

"You've got to listen to me," I said in an urgent manner. "You'll regret it if you don't . . . You don't understand. . . ."

"I understand a lot better than you think. You never heard he, did you? My mum . . . trying to stop Voldemort killing me . . . and you did that . . . you did it . . ."

Crookshanks then leaped onto my chest and refused to move off of me. Harry raised his wand at me again, but he didn't do anything. After a few lengthened seconds, we heard footsteps moving through the house.

Hermione screamed, "WE'RE UP HERE! WE'RE UP HERE SIRIUS BLACK QUICK!"

Remus burst into the room and disarmed the children. He looked at me and in a very tense voice asked, "Where is he, Sirius?"

I pointed to Ron and Remus slowly muttered, "But then . . . why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless unless _he _was the one . . . unless you switched . . . without tell me?"

I nodded, and Harry started, "Professor, what's going on ?"

He cut off abruptly when Lupin brazenly walked toward me and helped me to my feet before embracing me like a brother.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed.

Remus let me go and she sputtered on, "You you "

"Hermione "

" you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down "

"I didn't tell anyone!" She shrieked. "I've been covering up for you!"

"Hermione, listen to me, please!" Remus shouted. "I can explain "

After that Hermione revealed Remus as a werewolf to Harry and Ron. After a lot more deliberation and digression, he (Remus) got the three children calmed down and explained to them how he had been watching the Marauder's Map and had watched them disappear into Hagrid's hut. He then explained that when they came out there was someone else with them that he could believe was with them.

"No one was with us!" said Harry.

"And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled _Sirius Black_. . . I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow "

"One of us!" Ron said angrily.

"No, Ron," Remus corrected, "two of you." Remus stopped pacing and said to Ron, "Do you think I could have a look at the rat?"

"What?" said Ron. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said Remus. "Could I see him, please?"

"What?" Ron said again, holding Pettigrew close to him, looking scared. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," I croaked suddenly.

"What d'you mean of course he's a rat "

"No, he's not," said Remus quietly. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus," I said, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

Remus and I then proceeded to explain to the children our past lives as Hogwarts. We explained to them how Pettigrew, James and I were illegal Animagi to keep Remus company for his transformations. We also explained how I once pulled a prank on Snape that very nearly got him killed. I told him to go down to the Whomping Willow one night when Moony was going to transform. James had been forced to save him for my stupidity. We were just finishing the explanation when Snivellus came burst into the room ranting about expulsion, Azkaban, suspensions, and Remus being a traitor. Harry, Ron and Hermione attacked him, and we went about trying to explain that Ron's rat 'Scabbers' was actually Peter Pettigrew again.

"I'm still not saying I believe you," Harry told Remus.

"Then it's time we offered you some proof," said Remus. "You boy give me

Peter, please. Now."

"Come off it," Ron said weakly, clutching 'Scabbers' to his chest. "Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on _Scabbers_? I mean,

okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat there are millions of rats how's he supposed to know which one he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question," said Remus, turning to me and frowning slightly. "Hod _did_ you find out where he was?"

I stuck my hand into my pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. It was the newspaper picture with the Weasley family. . . the one where 'Scabbers' sat on Ron's shoulder.

"How did you get this?" Remus asked me, thunderstruck.

I thought back, I couldn't remember if it was the one from Fudge or the one from Magnolia Crescent. In the end, I said from Fudge. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page . . . on this boy's shoulder. . . . I knew him at once . . . how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts . . . to where Harry was. . . ."

"My God," Lupin said staring at 'Scabbers' and back to the paper. "His front paw. . ."

"What about it?" Ron asked defiantly.

"He's got a toe missing," I said.

"Of course," Remus breathed. "So simple . . . so _brilliant_ . . . he cut it off himself?"

"Just before he transformed," I said. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone with twenty feet of himself and sped down into the sewer with the other rats. . . ."

"Didn't you ever hear, Ron? The biggest part of Peter they found was his finger."

"Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right "

"Twelve years, in fact," said Lupin. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?"

"We we've been taking good care of him!"

"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he? I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again. . . ."

"He's been scared of that mad cat!" said Ron, nodding towards Crookshanks.

"This cat isn't mad," I said, reaching out my bony hand to stroke him. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when we met, he knew I was no dog. It was awhile before he trusted me. . . . Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me. . . ."

"What do you mean?" breathed Hermione.

"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't . . . so he strike the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me. . . . As I understand it, he took them from a boy's bedside table. . . . But Peter got wind of what was going o and ran for it. . . ." I croaked. "This cat told me Peter had left blood on the sheets. . . . I supposed he bit himself. . . Well, faking his own death had worked once. . . ."

"And why did he fake his death?" Harry asked furiously. Boy, this kid needed a punching bag . . . "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"No," said Remus, "Harry "

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have," I said with an evil look to Pettigrew.

"Then I should've let Snape take you!" Harry shouted. Yep, definite anger management classes.

"Harry," said Remus hurriedly, "don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down but it was the other way around, don't you see? _Peter_ betrayed your mother and father Sirius tracked _Peter_ down "

THAT'S NOT TRUE! HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"

"Harry. . . . I as good as kill them," I croaked. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me. . . . I'm to blame, I know it. . . . The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was nos sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies . . . I realized what Peter must've done . . . what I'd done."

"Enough of this," said Remus. "There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, _give me that rat_."

"What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?" Ron asked tensely.

"Force him to show himself. If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Ron handed Remus the rat and together, Remus and I, we revealed the rat for who he was. The sick, groveling rat begged for forgiveness. Yes, he did. He begged for it ever so, and I was all prepared to kill him. I would have killed him in cold blood. I wouldn't have had a problem with it, but Harry, Harry did have a problem with it.

I had just said, "THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAYED YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

And Remus had just said, "You should have realized if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good bye, Peter." When Harry intervened with, "NO!"

"You can't kill him! You can't!"

In my mind, I was screaming, 'I can! I can!' But I instead said, "Harry this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents. This cringing bit of filth would have seen you did too, without turning a hair. You hear him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."

"I know," Harry panted. "We'll talk him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the dementors. . . . He can go to Azkaban . . . but don't kill him."

Remus and I agreed and started our way out of the Shrieking Shack with the kids. We were exiting through the tunnel when an idea struck me.

"You know what this means?" I said abruptly to Harry. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free," said Harry.

"Yes. . . .," I said. "But I'm also I don't know if anyone ever told you I'm your godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that."

"Well . . . your parents appointed me your guardian," I said stiffly. "If anything happened to them . . . I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle. But . . . well . . . think about it. Once my name's cleared . . . if you wanted a . . . a different home . . ."

"What live with you? Leave the Dursleys?"

My heart sank into my stomach. "Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to. I understand, I just thought I'd "

"Are you insane? Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

"You want to? You mean it?" I was in utter disbelief.

"Yeah, I mean it!" Harry said enthusiastically.

I smiled. I was going to get my godson. I was going to get to see him lead a normal life. Well, I had that belief for about ten minutes or so. When we exited the Shrieking Shack, we realized that it was a full moon and that Remus hadn't taken his potion for the evening. We realized that we were all thoroughly screwed. In the midst of it all, Pettigrew transformed and got away, and I started fighting with Remus. All I remember after that is passing out with hundreds of dementors swooping down around me. I thought I was gone for sure. But I woke, and I woke with a soul. I was in some sort of tower in the castle. About five minutes after I awoke, there was a tapping at the window. I looked out of it to see Harry, Hermione and Buckbeak floating outside of the window. I tried to open the window, but my attempts were futile. One of the quickly blasted the window with the 'alohomora' charm, and it blasted open.

"How how" I spluttered looking at the hippogriff.

"Get on there's not much time," said Harry, gripping the hippogriff's neck tightly on either side. "You've got to get out of here the dementors are coming Mcnair's gone to get them."

I climbed onto Buckbeak behind Hermione, and Harry commanded the animal to go up. Buckbeak dropped the two off on the West tower, and Harry said, "Sirius, you'd better go, quick. They'll reach Flitwick's office any moment, they'll find out you're gone."

"What happened to the other boy? Ron?" I couldn't go without asking.

"He's going to be okay. He's still out of it, but Madam Pomfrey says she'll be able to make him better. Quick go "

"How can I ever thank"

"GO!" Harry and Hermione shouted together.

"We'll see each other again," I said. "You are truly your father's son, Harry. . . ."

With that, I was gone, on my way to south Africa. South Africa, where they didn't know who I was.

_**Dear Harry,**_

_**I hope this finds you before you reach your aunt and uncle. I don't know whether they're used to owl post.**_

_**Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I won't tell you where, in case this owl falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about his reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job.**_

_**I believe the dementors are still searching for me, but they haven't a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that security on the castle will be lifted.**_

_**There is something I never got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt.. Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays' worth of presents from your godfather.**_

_**I would also like to apologize for the fright I think I gave you that night last year when you left your uncle's house. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of you before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed you.**_

_**I am enclosing something else for you, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable.**_

_**If ever you need me, send word. Your owl will find me. **_

_**I'll write again soon.**_

_**Sirius.**_

_**I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends.**_

_**P.S. I thought your friend Ron might want to keep this owl, as it's my fault he no longer has a rat.**_


End file.
